Immortality of the Soul
by Runa93
Summary: Mary passes on and Watson cannot hold on to the slipping darkness....


**A/N: Hi guys I'm back! Anyone miss me? No? Darn. **

_Thee who believeth in the immortality of my soul…._

The house had never seemed so quiet before.

A door opened silently in the distance, and then shut again. The man kneeling beside the bed did not show any intent to move. The visitor hesitantly approached the bed.

"Doctor?" There was a slight movement and Watson raised his head. But in the dwindling light nothing could be seen of his face. The visitor hesitated again. Watson rose to his feet slowly, unsteadily. He tilted his head towards the door.

"Yes?" He said. His voice was hoarse.

The man reached out a hand and gripped Watson's shoulder. And gave it a little shake. "It's me, old man. Lestrade."

Watson looked back, the ghost of a smile flitting across his face. He held out a hand. "Lestrade. How nice of you to visit at last."

Lestrade took his hand and gently lead him out of the room. Watson didn't resist, though his eyes strayed back to the body on the bed. "Mrs. Hudson is downstairs, old boy. She's worried." They had reached the stairs. "You need to eat."

Watson shook his head slightly. "I've eaten."

"When?"

"…..yesterday."

Lestrade propelled him towards the stairs. "Not soon enough. Watch your step." Watson reached out and steadied himself against the wall. Lestrade watched him carefully. He didn't say a word.

At the foot Mrs. Hudson was waiting for them. She hurried forward as they descended.

"How is he?" she whispered, directing her question to Lestrade, who was still holding Watson by the arm. Lestrade shook his head.

"Still a little dazed, I think. I need Dr. Anderson to take a look at him. Says he's not eaten since yesterday."

"I've wired him to come." Mrs. Hudson looked at the doctor anxiously. He didn't meet her gaze.

"He'll be alright, Mrs. Hudson." Lestrade murmured. "After he's gotten over the shock. He'll be alright."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. They both looked at Watson for a while.

After sometime, Watson seemed to become aware of their gaze. He looked around and gently shook his arm free of Lestrade's grip. Lestrade looked at him sharply. Watson indicated the door with a slight movement of his head. The door which led to the adjoining sitting room.

Lestrade understood and, walking up to it, opened it. He watched Watson enter, and sit down at the piano kept inside. He knew that piano had belonged to Mrs. Watson. And as he closed the door, he watched Watson bury his face in his hands.

He walked back to where Mrs. Hudson stood. The old lady was watching the door, troubled. After a while she spoke. "It doesn't seem right."

Lestrade looked back at the door. He didn't have to ask her what.

"So soon after losing Mr. Holmes." The lady wavered slightly. "It doesn't." She paused, then added. "He's too good, is Dr. Watson. That's why it doesn't seem right."

Lestrade exhaled a deep sight and wondered when Dr. Anderson would reach. "I know it doesn't. But then again, these things seldom do."

_**In Tibet…**_

The tall gaunt man uncovered the note handed to him by a grinning urchin, with trembling half frozen hands. His eyes narrowed as he saw his brother's familiar slanting handwriting. This message had passed through many hands to get to him.

_Read the newspaper cut first._

There was a newspaper cut out folded inside. He unfolded it. It was an obituary. His heart missed a beat. Whatever piece of his heart yet remained undamaged, quivered and died within him.

_He is alone now. You need to come back._

There were so many things to consider…Moran, first of all….Yet he ached to return and make amends.

There was another message from his brother.

_Ronald Adair has been murdered._

Just that. One simple sentence. He stared at it, eyes narrowed. For one single excruciatingly frightening second, he understood nothing.

Then, in a flash of pure clean reason, he understood everything. The paper crumpled in his grip.

_Moran._

Then ….

"Watson."

A passing monk looked back at him with curiosity. He was sure that all the world's sadness was hidden in that word.

…_..I shall be with thee evermore._

**A/N: Finally my exams got over! So I just had to write something in apology to you guys for being off so long so though I know that this theme's been done to death, **_**I've **_**never done it and I thought I might have a shot at it. Oh and that last italicized line is a continuation of the italicized line in the beginning of the story.**

**What do you think? Was it ok? Anywhere I could improve?**

**Please Read and Review!**


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